My Story

I have always liked the nature of growth, especially plants. In my grandmother’s garden, I loved watching the long, neat rows of peas, greens, or okra. The pale sheen of a fresh new leaf unfurled was a thrill to me. I was distressed to see any brown or yellow leaves, which meant it was one less leaf I could admire.

Of my five siblings, I was probably the only one who noticed the green vines of the Ivy (Pothos) plant that stretched across my mother’s window- table and up the wall. I was the one who made sure that the huge pickle jar that housed its roots was never dry.

I knew Mama was not just being finicky about the dumb cane when she admonished the children not to touch it or “please don’t put the plant in your mouth,” she would say. I knew why. It was poisonous to pets and children. How did Mama know it was poisonous since she did not know the botanical name was Dieffenbachia? She just knew stuff.

As Robert Frost said, “knowing how way leads on to way.” I busied myself with life, raising two children, tending to my husband, working a demanding job, dare I say going to school to earn an advanced degree, but the plants always stayed in the background, waiting for their turn – waiting for my passion to go full bloom.

In the meantime, before the passion blossomed, I remember a friend telling me: “If I come to your house and sit down, a bird might fly in my hair.” Yes, I had monsters way back then.

But I could never get plants to stay. I could never get them to love me as much as I loved them. This on-and-off-again relationship with plants lasted until about 2021. In that year of our Lord, I put my foot down! You’ve gotta grow or go. I started tending, propagating, and studying to learn the ways and habits of those plants that remained faithful to me by staying alive past six months.

And so, I had about a hundred Pothos and twenty-five Aglaonema Emerald Bay in my collection when my son was commissioned to help me move. He blurted out, “Mama, you have lots of plants, but they are all the same ones.” Smart mouth, kid. Just stay in your lane. Lift that furniture.

After assessing the situation, I concluded that he was right. So, I set out to change it. On to the plant stage, I introduce my minimum of three. In the spring, the beginning of the growing season, I began to choose three new plants to add to the collection. I surmised that if something should go awry, I would have my girl, Mother Nature, to help me out.

I firmly believe that growing a plant collection should be done with minimal stress. It should be fun and relaxing. You should be able to live the life you love as well as love to live your passion. You should not be on vacation, biting your fingernails, worrying that upon your return, your Monstera Delicioso will be a crumbled heap of brown leaves on the floor.

I’m here to share my lessons learned and invite you to go on a journey with me to have a beautiful plant collection without a great amount of expense and stress. It’s been a satisfying ride so far.